Font Size:

NICK HADN’T HAD THATmuch fun in longer than he could remember. He didn’t know if it was from letting go of all the shit bogging him down or being with Maisie. Any or all of it could be the reason but he couldn’t ignore the fact that being near her made him breathe easier. Made him laugh freely even as his heart sped up while his nerves took a back seat. It was dangerous and should have scared the hell out of him. Itdidscare the hell out of him, but he wanted her anyway.

In a strange way, it reminded him of his early hockey days when he had the single-minded goal to become one of the best. It took hard work and a drive he sometimes had to dig really deep to find, but in the end, it was worth it. He’d never considered building a life with someone because he’d always been building his career. Now, even as he was slowly acknowledging the end of that, whether it was this year or in the next couple, the idea of working toward something else, with Maisie by his side, filled him with nervous energy.

They’d all filed up the stairs, leaving their wet boots at the back door. Maisie went into her room quietly as the others traveled to theirs, whispering goodnights in the dark hallway. His knee throbbed just the tiniest bit but that was a good sign. He’d forgotten about it when he was caught up in the fun.

Now, Nick stood outside of his own door, steadying his breath, forehead against the wood. Feeling so much and wanting to share it with her was squeezing the hell out of his lungs.

Other than hockey, he’d never felt a pull like this. Everything about Maisie sucked him in, twisted him up, and smoothed him out. He’d been with her one night. And she’d haunted him ever since. Then shown up like a Christmas miracle he didn’t ask for and wasn’t sure he deserved. At least, before. Now, he knew he’d work to deserve her affection and trust.

It was probably better to wait though. Get through Christmas and take her out for dinner, tell her he cared about her and wanted more. He didn’t know what “more” was right now and she might want answers. Answers he didn’t really have yet. Giving his head a shake, he told himself to let her sleep. He had a week before he went back to work, less than that before he needed to rejoin the team. Time to figure things out. Nick went into his own room.

Maisie stood there in her still-damp clothes, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, backlit by the reading lamp next to his bed. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her body slight and shivering.

“I wasn’t sure…” she said on a shaky breath.

Nick crossed the room in three long strides and shoved one hand into her hair, the other snaking around her back, clutching her against his body as he tipped her head so he could see as much of her face as possible. Her eyes and the way she looked at him healed something inside him from the first minute they met, and he hadn’t even realized it.

“I am. I’m sure.”

“Nick,” she whispered like a plea, her breath hitching, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

His own body shook, whether from cold or desire, he didn’t know. One of her hands drifted up, caressed his cheek, and her nails scratched along his beard, her fingertips traveling over his lips before going to the nape of his neck and tugging him closer.

Her lips were cold and his probably were too but as they met halfway, a bolt of heat shot through his entire body. When she moaned against his lips, opening completely, her fingers tightening in his shirt, his restraint burst like fireworks in his chest, all over his body. And then there was nothing but Maisie.

Maisie’s body pressed up against him, surging into his kiss while he walked them backward toward the bathroom door. Maisie’s hands gripping his hair at the roots, tugging hard enough to sting, like she couldn’t get close enough to him. Maisie’s sweater in his hands, then on the floor. He tore his off, tossing it. Her T-shirt went next. Then her bra. By then, they’d made it to the bathroom and he broke apart only to reach past her and turn the shower on.

When he came back to her, the sweetness in her gaze undid something inside him. Looking at her unlocked a gentle possessiveness his didn’t know he had. Maybe he hadn’t, until her. Emotion swamped him. He ran a hand down her hair, marveling at the reality of being here, again, with her looking at him like he was everything she wanted.

“Need to warm us up,” he said against her mouth.

“You’re doing a pretty good job of that without the shower.”

His laugh was cut off when her hands, hot against his chilled skin, roamed up his bare chest, over his pecs, down, her fingertips outlining the ridges of his abs. Little shivers whispered along his body as she kissed the edges of the tattoos over his heart.

Maisie leaned away, lifted her hands to bring them to her hair,and holy fuck, he almost fell to his knees. He watched, breath held, while she flicked her wrists, twisted her hair, producing a hair tie out of thin air to tuck all those gorgeous strands into a wispy bun on her head. She was glorious. Nick couldn’t help himself. While her hands were up, he moved his along her body, trailing his palms down her sides, over the outer curve of her perfect breasts, across her stomach, down to her hips. He lowered himself to his knees, pressed his lips to her stomach, smiling against her skin when she sucked in a breath.

His hands went to the waist of her pants, tugged them down only to find more pants underneath.

Tipping his head back, he grinned up at her. “How many pairs of pants am I going to find?”

She giggled softly, the sound wrapping around his heart like a fist. “Just two. It was cold.”

Peeling both layers down, he trailed his lips along her hipbone, listening to her breathing change, quicken, feeling her fingers sift through his hair. Nuzzling his bearded cheek against the softness of her skin, he splayed his hands along her back, pressed her closer, but it wasn’t enough. He inhaled the sweet vanilla scent of her skin, reveled in the feel of it under his hands and lips.

She shivered as she whispered his name again and even though he was no longer cold—his skin was on fire—he worried she might be. Removing her underwear, he stood, took off the rest of his own clothing, and pulled her into the shower.

Their mouths came together over and over, tongues teasing, breaths hitching, the warm spray washing over them as their hands explored every inch they could reach. Grabbing the body wash, Nick squeezed some into his hands and turned her, running the soap over her shoulders, kneading and caressing them as she dropped her chin to her chest. Letting the water rinse the suds, he pressed his lips to the curve of her neck, moved his hands to her stomach, stroking both up and down as she pushed her body back into him.

“Maisie,” he growled against her hair right before she turned in his arms, linking her hands behind his neck. She wasn’t shaking anymore. Somehow, even with her moving her mouth over his collarbone, across his chest, her tongue darting out, making him hiss out strained curses, he managed to dry them off, get them back to his bedroom, to his bed, and then they were in it, on it, and lost in each other.

Rising up on his elbows with his hands tucked into her hair, he looked down at her beautiful face, trying to memorize it. Her dark eyes studied him, like she was doing the same. He wanted her with a fierceness he’d never experienced in his life and yet, he didn’t want to rush. Nick wanted to slow time, to stay frozen in this moment, in the before, with her clutching his lower back, one of her legs curled around his, their bodies flush and heated, with Maisie looking at him like she could see all the way through him and liked him anyway.

Nick brushed his knuckles over her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered closed and her dark lashes rested against her skin. He kissed each eye, then her nose and watched with pleasure as her eyes drifted open again, locked right on his.

He felt her heartbeat against his chest and was almost positive the two separate rhythms synced. Maisie arched her neck to kiss him, like she couldn’t wait any longer.

When he leaned away again, she grumbled, trying to pull him back and making him laugh. Being careful not to crush her with his weight, he reached down and over to one of the duffel bags he’d left by the bed. Rooting through it with one hand, he balanced his weight precariously while she assaulted his neck with her lips and tongue and teeth. His fingers closed around a condom—thank God—then he went back to her and focused solely on making sure Maisie Smart was as consumed with him as he was with her.